Losses and Gains
by SadisticEyes
Summary: John can't handle being alone, but it is only a matter of time before Sherlock comes back with a little more than a explaination. Multi-chapter. Set after episode 'The Reichenbach Fall'.
1. John Feels

Title: Nothing Left to Lose

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Pairing: John Watson x Sherlock Holmes

Rating: T

Warnings: **Heavy** John feels, angst, possible OOC-ness... Johnlock. Don't like, don't read.

Summary: John can't handle being alone, but it is only a matter of time before Sherlock comes back with a little more than a explaination. Multi-chapter. Set after episode 'The Reichenbach Fall'.

AN: First ever try at this fandom, so be nice please. This is my own little take on what happens after and yes, they may be a bit OOC because I can never really get anyone right.. Enjoy.

* * *

John was alone.

And that in itself was terrifying.

John had thought that he would hopefully never have to feel this again; that lost feeling that made him feel like the world rested on his shoulders and he was going to buckle under the weight. He never thought he would have to deal with the heavy silence left after someone is gone or the tightness that accompanied the lost feeling when he looked around the room at all the small memories.

He had hoped -which he now knew was a awful thing to do- that he would always have Sherlock even though he knew the risks of what Sherlock's life constituted of. John thought that he wouldn't have these feeling resurface ever again.

How wrong he was.

He walked slowly in a circle around the room with longing in his eyes and a fresh set of tears settling on the edges of lids to accompany the feeling. He looked at the skull on the mantle and Sherlock's chair which he refuses to touch. The violin leaning against said chair and the dressing gown thrown carelessly across the back.

The pain hit him hard like the first time he realized he was truly alone again. He still couldn't wrap his head around how Sherlock could just di- leave like that. Refused to believe it actually. Even if there were splatters on the ground and the headstone to prove it. He heaved a shaky breath as he sat in his own chair. Squeezing the arms he felt the next feeling; regret rolled through his body with heavy steps. Regret of not ever telling the brilliant man how he felt. Didn't even get to settle a whisper of how he made his chest tighten and butterflies flutter helplessly in his stomach even if he would go off on a tangent of how that isn't possible. John didn't even get to say how much he wanted to feel those pales lips under his, how he wanted to cup those supple cheeks that went rosy in the cold or how he wanted to lightly run his fingers along those sharp hipbones or feel the arch of his back under him.

John wished desperately to tell Sherlock his warming feelings for him and hope for the best. But he remembered quickly that could never happen. Which brought on the heavy tears that slipped down his tired cheeks as he slumped silently in his chair across from Sherlock and closed his eyes. He felt all of his defenses slip and all that was left was the feelings and the empty room of that one person he wanted more than anything.

He never even noticed the eyes of the older Holmes watching from a distance with phone in his hand; texting a reply to the questioning message of:

_'How is John? Please don't let him be crying again; That just won't do.._

_-SH.'_

Mycroft sighed as he looked through the window of 221b Baker Street and then back at his phone. He wished his brother would just tell John he was alive and well. That is was all just a well thought plan that went maybe a little too well. He wished Sherlock would just come clean and tell John his feelings even if they made him out to be something he claimed not to be. But no; Sherlock hides in his home biding his time. Waiting until all the chips fall and his presence will be needed.

But he didn't realize that is what was needed very badly right now by a certain doctor sitting in the living room with tear tracks staining his cheeks and white knuckles pulled taut over he chair's arms.

_'This is too much Shirley, he needs you. Now. This is not fair to him' _

He beat down the urge to go and just tell the doctor himself. But he knew it wouldn't matter if it came from him.

_'Not yet, it isn't time yet_

_-SH'_

Mycroft scoffed at the message and felt anger bubble in his throat. He just wanted to throttle Sherlock right now.

_'Quit being so scared of your feelings and get down here to take care of him! You are a bloody idiot that doesn't deserve this man's tears'_

He knew that was the wrong thing to say when he got the reply of:

_'I know._

_-SH'_

* * *

AN: This is only the first chapter. It won't have many chapters because I probably won't be able to make it long with the way I write.. Hope you like it so far and drop a review if there is anything you think I should change or add._  
_

_Thank you for the time you spent reading this.  
_


	2. Sherlock

_Chapter Two._

Sherlock tapped his long fingers on the arms of the settee. The drawing room smelling of tea, the sweet hint of honeyed biscuits and the heady scent of Mycroft's cologne.

"Your angry with me" Mycroft looked at Sherlock with heavy exasperation that made his shoulders shrug and lips deepen their frown as he walked through the entrance to the room. Of course the first words to come out of his bow lips is an obvious deduction, but it has always been that way so he never expected an hello from his dearest brother.

"Oh, and how did you deduce that one, Shirley?" contempt dripped from his words along with the stench of false astonishment.

"Oh come now Myrcroft, contempt doesn't suit you"

Mycroft just sighed and sat down across from Sherlock who now curled up on his side facing away from his brother. His shoulders tensed as Mycroft took a initial breath before he started on his becoming usual conversation with his surprisingly stupid at times brother.

"You have to tell him you are well Sherlock. He can't keep going like this, especially with the rate he is slowing his diet to almost nothing"

Sherlock's response was a heavy silence and a very slight shift of curling more into himself.

Mycroft felt an angry burn stoke in his throat. He knew his brother thought emotions were not necessary, as did he most of the time but not only did he want the moping to stop, he wanted his brother and the good doctor to be happy and possibly more pliant to his abrupt cases that may not be "interesting".

"Sherlock. Quit hiding from your feelings and John's!" he watched as Sherlock became ridged and felt almost triumphant. That one sentence seems to rile his brother into an actual conversation along with it being so true. He can't keep stalling or as Sherlock adamantly reminded 'protecting John from the wrath of Moriarty's partners'. It isn't working in the slightest In the sense of John being well. It would be quicker to just let those partners just get him then let him slowly spiral into a oblivion.

"This isn't working Sherlock. It is just causing more pain on both sides. You know you want to go back to him and if you wait much longer he may not even take you back or he will think he has gone insane and is just seeing you and off his sorry self"

Sherlock shot up and glared at his older brother with eyes full of malice.

"Don't even say that. John would never do that to himself" a scoff was let out then Mycroft watched as he walked across the coffee table and stomped away to his quarters like a petulant child.

A sigh fell to silent ears and a head fell into defeated hands. What a pain this all was.

* * *

Sherlock paced his room with a heavy steps, words filling his head that he has already thought of.

He could go see John, but there was still the case of Moriarty's ever faithful dogs. They would come after them soon after they have sniffed that he isn't truly dead. That he didn't die at the time that their employer did. But then John would be in danger.

Not that he wasn't already with the way he was treating his body and mind.

And it wasn't like he wasn't in constant danger before the whole game started.

But this part of it is more dangerous then all the cases combined.

But it also isn't like Sherlock couldn't protect him if he did.

_But..._

There were so many reasons to go, but so many counters to let this continue until he finished taking care of Moriarty's army. Sherlock already got the smaller ones, but Moran has been quite elusive for the time being.

He just couldn't make up his mind, all the facts were there but the emotions were clouding his judgement. Oh, how he wished he could make those leave like he has for most of his life. But John had to go and break those barriers and make him _feel_ again.

How unacceptable at a time like this.

Sherlock scoffed as he ran his fingers through his unruly black locks and collapsed onto his bed. He groaned into his hands before putting them under his chin.

Maybe he would disguise himself and go out tomorrow.

To see his good doctor for himself, instead of basing everything off of Mycroft's observations.

* * *

Short chapter but hope you liked chapter two. I am going to start working on chapter three tonight. Sorry for being so late with an update.

_Thank you for taking the time to read this._


End file.
